


strangers

by SuddenWhispers



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-01-04 23:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuddenWhispers/pseuds/SuddenWhispers
Summary: Time can make anyone a stranger. When Annette finds a way to regain lost time between people, Felix goes with her on an adventure to determine whether lost time can truly be found again. [Felix x Annette]





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is my first chapter fic (ever) and I'd love to have the energy and motivation to finish this, seeing that Felix and Annette are sooooo sweet together! Seriously, Felix is ONLY nice to Annette. Please leave some kudos and a comment if you enjoyed and to hopefully motivate me to finish this *_*
> 
> Enter Felix ~

_Chapter 1_

_\--_

“Tell them to go find a more willing and tame suitor,” Felix spits back at his father, Rodrigue of House Fraldarius. “Better yet, tell them I’d rather eat dog shit than marry into their social climbing, poor-excuse of a noble house family.”

Felix can’t believe his father’s request. Twenty-one years and it's the first time he’s heard of something so incredulous that he’s asked him to repeat it three times already. The house of the neighboring lands of Fraldarius had extended an offer - their eldest daughter’s hand in marriage. As such, their lands would become one, and they would hold more leverage in the political affairs of the Kingdom should they remain together in unity. However, marriage had never been on the radar for Felix, but here it is, laid out bare on the table before him. He remembers his brother Glenn, who had been about his age when he passed in the fields of Duscur, and how both neighboring nobles and those across the Kingdom had filed their proposals from all sides, all for the chance to be wed into the family yielding the Kingdom’s Shield. He wishes to be nothing like his brother, who died protecting others, who died because he was weak. In this way, he would also defect - he had better things to do than become a pawn in the political power struggle of Fodlan.

It has been four years since the fall of Garreg Mach, since everyone has gone their separate ways. While many of the nobles returned to their homelands to serve in the name of their respective countries. Felix was no exception - he had returned under the rule of Fraldarius as scion to the Kingdom’s Shield. It hadn’t come without problems, however. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of his father’s not-so-subtle advances on the topic of marriage. It was severely interfering with his training, which he thought would certainly tone down his father’s nagging.

But Rodrigue remains stern and unyielding. The silence before he speaks radiates through the wide and ornate halls of House Fraldarius, floating past the swords from generations of past Shields of Faerghus that hung against the wall. The eerie whistle of winter’s wind passes between them, softly rattling the hanging chandelier in the next room - a gift from the royal line from centuries ago. “I will not have you use me to relay such vile language. Also, you cannot avoid the topic forever. I know you have been.”

“And why do you think that is?” Felix shakes his head. “Nevermind, don’t bother answering.” For years since he has become an only son, he feels as if they’ve been just missing each other, never quite able to meet in the middle. He doesn’t understand his father’s pressing concern with marrying him off to some 4th rate noble who clearly only want to ascend the ranks. Why couldn’t he see that?

Rodrigue sighs, exasperated with having to deal with two sons in his lifetime of the same demeanor. If Felix’s mother were still with them, perhaps it would be a different story. Perhaps they would have grown to be more understanding, more willing, and go easy on their poor old father. But instead, they had inherited his blazing temper with a will sharper than steel. A double edged sword proving itself troublesome now. “I’m not asking you to simply marry. You know that. I’m asking you to think of your duty to this house and to the Kingdom, Felix.” He turns to leave, cape trailing heavily behind his steps.

But Felix isn’t done talking. He takes a minute to steel himself, steadying his exhalations between breathes. “And you know I’ll never be able to fulfil what my brother left behind,” he seethes. The words leave his mouth with a bite of their own and sting in the air between them. Felix had always been sharp-tongued - of all his friends, Dimitri, the successor to the throne, could attest to this. But it is never without meaning, Dimitri would say, and that has been the mark of the Fraldarius brothers amongst the noble children for years.

Rodrigue doesn’t bother to face his second son. Perhaps some part of him knows his words are true. It wasn’t a remorse without reason - such was the sad fate of Felix since Glenn’s departure, to take on the role of the dead. But the truth is inevitable now, and he needed his now only son to understand. “You are not Glenn, Felix. But his duty is now yours. Whether or not you can fulfil it will be left up to fate.”

Felix’s fists clench into his leathered training gear. Of course he could do it if he tried. But as his father walks away, back against his son, Felix can’t help but think that they’ve just missed each other once again.

Later, Felix would retreat to his room, into the four corners he has corned himself into for most of his life. Sylvain is there, sprawled out on his bed in his kicked back and nonchalant ways. Felix doesn’t know why he’s here, but he’s always known how he has scaled the jagged rocks along the side of the house whenever he needed to talk or, more often, whenever he needed to hide from another broken hearted, sworn for vengeance girl. It has been this way since their childhood, and even after the downfall of Garreg Mach, old habits die hard. Perhaps it gave Sylvain comfort to be able to revisit a part of his past that wasn’t broken.

“What do you want?” Felix doesn’t bother looking at his friend as he kicks the door closed behind him. “I’m tired of telling you to use the front door.”

Sylvain kicks himself up to sitting, a wide grin and playful eyes dancing. “Rumor has it that the Shield of Faerghus is marrying off his only scion.”

Tch. Word of marriage travels faster than declarations of war, Felix swears. He cracks his knuckles menacingly before throwing off his gloves to the corner of the bed. “Then you should also know that there’s no way in hell that his only scion will go through that bull,” he spits and slumps to sit on the floor at the edge of the bed.

The quiet between them hangs for a brief and heavy moment. Sylvain doesn’t say it, but he knows what ails his friend. It’s clear in the way he pulls him back before the start of a clash on the battlefield of how he demands Dimitri to fall back for not being strong enough or when his eyes fall to the ground when Ingrid scolds him for being reckless during training. Felix is better off in the field protecting his people rather than being used as a political pawn. Then: “Good, because there’s no way I’m losing to you in the race to settling down with a pretty girl.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

But Sylvain simply smiles back. “And you’re just doing what you gotta do, am I right?”

“And just what am I doing exactly?” Felix prompts. He realizes himself that he has no idea where this push-and-pull will lead him. Even at twenty-one, he finds himself retreating to the safety of House Fraldarius, the safety of his room, the safety of his loneliness. Soon enough, he will run out of places to hide. How he wishes he could take part in the front lines of war where he could drown his thoughts in the light of his blade. There, he could do what he has been trained to do - fight.

And protect.

Sylvain claps a hand on Felix’s back, lingering longer than what he’s used to it. “I’m not here to tell you what to do, but-” his words begin to linger slow, “-staying here, doing nothing - it never suited you.”

Felix narrows his eyes behind hands laced over his forehead. Sylvain wasn’t far from the truth. Ever since they were young, the two of them along with Dimitri and Ingrid would test the boundaries set by their parents and traverse the border of town to the open and empty plains of the dying north where they were free to make their marks on the freshly fallen snow crunching beneath their feet. He remembers the way he and Sylvain made hearts in the snow connect with their footprints, hand in hand until they parted ways, only to reach each other again at its completion. Or the way Dimitri had coaxed Ingrid into rolling across the snow until their entire bodies were plastered with thick dustings of snow that had them both sneezing for the next week, much to Ingrid’s chastise later on. That day, they had explored to their hearts’ content, smiles surging larger than ever before, never once looking back at the snow topped houses of Fhirdiad. A nostalgic sense of freedom washed over those memories, and suddenly Felix felt himself longing for those open plains, longing for the same sense of freedom.

That longing had always been a need. It is now what he decides he needs.

Felix jolts to his feet, frantically grabbing his leather cape off his bed and stuffing his metal canister recklessly in the closest open knapsack he could find. Water, rations, sword, and the clothes on my back, he thinks to himself. Sylvain, puzzled beyond belief in seeing his friend in such a frenzy, grabs his wrist before he can reach for his gloves. “Woah and just what are you doing?”

A cat’s grin slides its way across his lips. It may as well be one of his crazier ideas, taking off and running away from his problems, but it was the only thing he could do at the moment. He would deal with the consequences as they came. “I’m taking my freedom into my own hands.”

Sylvain says nothing and nods before releasing Felix and taking his leave from the second floor window in the same manner in which he came. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

As Sylvain slides down the cascading vines, he eyes that window for what may as well be the last time for a while. For years now, he’s seen his friends leave one by one as they each embark on their own journey and searched their own paths. Sylvain understands - he just hasn’t found his yet. The question is: when will his moment come?

Later that night, the air becomes weighted against the twilight of the Verdant Rain moon. A cold wind breathes beneath Felix’s hair, pulled back messily into a top knot the same way his brother used to. His breath is slightly unsteady, fogging into the winter night as he thinks of his father realizing that he won’t be coming home and sending his men after him. But tonight, he won’t play Glenn’s roll any longer. Tonight, Felix is simply himself.

He breathes in a final, steady breath and doesn’t look back as he slides down the vines of the second story window. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Enter Annette  
Also spoiler alert: this isn't the last you'll see of Sylvain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And enter Annette!

** _Chapter 2_**

Annette has seen many weird things in her life. As a former student of Fhirdad’s school of sorcery, stumbling across an ostrich on the way to the bathroom or accidentally conjuring a squirrel was a daily occurrence, much to the dismay of the professors but the enjoyment of the students. She has seen more fireworks explode and more sparks fly in her time than actual, successful spells.

It’s been four years seen the fall of Garreg Mach. Most of her classmates have since gone back to their respective houses in preparation for the ongoing war against the Empire. Annette was no exception - she had gone home to be with her mother, all while heading to the outskirts of the forest each morning to hone her magic in the inevitable case of invasion of the front lines. She hadn’t heard from most of her friends save Mercie, whom she often visited at church to make sure she was doing ok.

Annette has seen many weird things in her life. However, never in Annette’s 20 years of life thought she would see Felix, a former classmate, on the outskirts of the forest hanging upside down from an oak tree, teeth chattering and shivering under the same leather gear she remembers seeing him in during winter training back during their days at the monastery. Even in his laughable state, she recognizes his ink hair pinned back into the same messy updo she had grown used to seeing in the hallways and the serious scowl that never seems to leave his face, even during the most joyous times. Seeing him this way, a hearty laugh escapes her chest until tears prickle her eyes and has to wipe them with her sleeves. It is as if the weight of time has been lifted from her shoulders, to be able to enjoy a laugh like this during the tumultuous wartime ravaging the country. 

Felix simply dangles by the rope tie across a leg. “Don’t ask,” he says with arms crossed between teeth chatters.

“You know I’m gonna,” she retorts before mercilessly slicing the ropes with a sharp gust of wind. Felix falls to the ground with an uncomfortable and thankless thud.

Annette finds herself escorting her former classmate back towards the Dominic estate. Compared to that of Fraldarius, it was a simple, cozy manor with none of the ridiculous pomp and circumstance that characterized the estates of the inner houses near the capital. She’s almost embarrassed just imagining bringing an inner circle noble to her own house and already sees Felix’s critical stance and silent judgement upon arrival. But her father’s words begin to ring in her ears as the doubt creeps in. _ A name is weighed against a person’s actions, not property. _

She listens to Felix's attempt to explain himself as they walk side by side into town. For a man of few words and mostly action, she humors him when the words stumble out clumsily and in clear embarrassment. “If it weren’t for those stupid rabbits,” he mutters under his breath, already exasperated from being in this position in the first place. When she questions his purpose for traveling to the western Kingdom, his brows furrow deeper and Annette drops the subject. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing compared to your place, but it’s my home.” Annette says when they arrive at her doorstep. The door opens with ease, left unlocked and Annette drops her bag haphazardly by the entryway as she kicks off her shoes. Felix raises a brow. Compared to their days at the academy, Annette was not nearly as high strung and organized at home.

No one is at the Dominic household - Annette’s mother had gone to church for the day - but the entire house was filled with the scent of fresh bread, warm and hearty for the pangs of winter. It was a scent Annette had grown to love, the way comforted her as she nibbled on toast at her desk while burning the midnight oil for her sorcery exams the following day. She had missed it while at the monastery, but now she finds herself missing the feeling of being surrounded by friends and classmates. Four years later and the sentiment remains.

“I’m really glad to see you, Felix,” she says while preparing tea leaves and toast. Felix takes a seat at the table in the center of the kitchen, wooden and worn with use. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen anyone from our class. To be honest, I was starting to feel a bit lonely.”

“You never liked being alone while at the academy,” he says.

Annette’s eyes widen.“Oh, so you noticed?” She asks incredulously. She hadn’t expected Felix, who is single-minded in his purpose to become stronger, to be keen on others. 

Felix scoffs, but it brings a smile on her face that he doesn’t get to see with her back turned against him. She sets the teacup and toast in front of him and he nods a gesture of thanks. “At least I got to see you, even if it’s only for a bit.”

Annette settles down in the chair across him and takes in the spice of the Almyran tea. She eyes Felix doing the same as he closes his eyes and slows his breath into deep, rhythmic waves. Eastern nobles tend to prefer tea imported across the Fodlan-Almyran border as it was increasingly difficult to retrieve and thus more sought after since tensions at Fodlan’s Throat proved to be quite high during these trying times of war. 

Felix‘s eyes open and stare dead straight at Annette in a piercing gaze. “Why were you out in the forest? It’s far past hunting season.”

Annette considers his question, tightening her grip on her cup. She _ could _ tell him everything, tell him that she’s in search of something potentially dangerous were it to fall into the wrong hands. If she were to tell him, she’s certain he would scoff at her as he always does. Felix could be just what she needed. The goddess had blessed them with the gift of timing.

“I’m looking for something,” she says slowly in measured beats, still unsure if she should trust him with her secret. “But I need help. And that’s where you come in.”

“No.” He cuts her off as he lifts the cooled teacup to his lips.

Annette jumps in surprise at the curtness of his response. “You don’t even want to hear what’s in it for you?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

Annette had prepared for this - she knew that not much impressed Felix. Gold, jewels, information, or even connections did nothing for him. There was only one thing on his mind that he could possibly want.

“I’ll give you a job as a mercenary. Your reward: experience.”

Felix snorted. A mischievous smile curved its way at the corners of his lips. “You got me there.”

“So you’ll do it?” Annette feels hope rise, fluttering in her stomach.

Felix rolls his eyes. “What do you take me for? Only a fool would jump head first into an opportunity without fulling knowing what they’re getting themselves into.”

Annette pouts. “Fine. But only if you promise not to tell anyone! Confidentiality is part of the mercenary code.”

“Sure, if you say so. I’m no mercenary. Yet.”

Annette begins with a legend. The legend of the Twin Stars, known mostly to those in the western Kingdom, is well versed amongst school children. Two siblings, a brother and his sister, grow up attached to the hip in a small town away from the major towns. The brother had always been overprotective of his sister and made sure that no harm came to her. One day, as they were playing out in the forest beyond the town gates, the brother saves the girl from being attacked by monsters, only to fall into a deep sleep that one could not be aroused from. The brother had remained that way for weeks that spanned into months that spanned into years. Soon, twenty years had passed and the sister was not so little anymore. She had grown into a fine woman and had married the son of the town’s mayor. The sister had so many memories she wished to share with her brother, who she believed would one day wake up. So she prayed to the goddess - ‘I want to give my memories to my brother once he wakes. I don’t want him to feel like time has left him alone.’ The next day, the goddess, who is good and pure, answers the sister’s wishes and the brother awakens with a glass marble in his palm. In his dreams before he wakes, the goddess tells him that he has a choice: to live knowing lost time or to start anew. 

“No one knows what the brother chose, just that he was happy with his decision. Fun fact: the Twin Stars in the sky were named after them.” 

Felix places a hand on his chin, contemplating the viability of Annette’s words. Legends were simply that - legends. This much he knew. But the possibility of such an artifact existing was not out of the ordinary. The Divine Weapons were a testament to the Goddess Seiros herself, and no one dared to defy the knowledge that perhaps in a distant time, she had roamed the earth in the same manner that her followers had. 

Annette could see the doubt flickering in his eyes as his mind darted from one possibility to the next. “I’m not asking you to believe the legends,” she finally said. “Let’s say that I’m just offering you a job.”

Felix lowered his hand. “Good, because I don’t believe a word of it.”

Annette cocks her head to the side, hand on her chin in contemplation. “You’re not going to ask me what I’m going to use it for?”

“It’s not nice to ask an employer such trivialities,” he drolls, as if his answer were as obvious as crests. “Besides, it’s _ you _. What harm could you possibly do with it?”

Annette cannot contain herself as she takes Felix’s hands into her own, bouncing in delight as her eyes danced in relief and excitement in equal measure. The feelings of four years of loneliness dissipate into the thin winter air and bud into an alliance Annette is determined to hold on to. “I knew I could count on you!”

—

They agree to depart the following morning when the dew stars are still high in line with the setting moon. Felix is given an old room on the second floor, dusty and damp from disuse. “It used to belong to my father before he left us,” Annette says somberly, and he knows to leave it at that. 

She leaves him to tend to his preparations and shuts the door behind him. Felix finds himself in the center of what feels like a time capsule. He imagines the feather pen still dipped in its dried up inkwell hasn’t been moved in years or that the lavender velvet of the study chair was once red before the sun had blanched away its vivid colors.

Felix places his belongings on the bed and recounts Annette’s story in his head. What reason would there be for the brother to not take the opportunity to know what he had missed in those long and lonely years away? He imagines Sylvain, Ingrid, and even Dimitri struck into such a slumber and being given the same damning choice to make: do I live my life not knowing what I’ve missed? 

Then there’s Annette: Felix cannot help but question her motives for obtaining the sphere. They were never terribly close during their days at the Monastery, but Felix would have known if something had happened to her family. All that was public knowledge was that her father had left the Dominic house after the Tragedy of Duscur and has not been seen since. Despite her less than perfect circumstances, she never found without a smile graced upon her lips, even during the most difficult of exams or exhausting training sessions. It hadn’t occurred to Felix that she might have been hurting in spite of it all. 

The room is dim and dull, even in the iridescence of the moon spilling in from the windowpane. It’s as if no one dared to enter until today, the way dust springs out from the bed in a tiny explosion whenever he sets anything down or the way the wooden flooring abruptly changes color from being bleached by years of harsh sunlight. He suddenly thinks of Glenn and how terribly empty his room must be since his death. If Felix were to go back, dare to take a step in a world where he once lived and breathed, what would he find left behind?

In the moonlight, he steeps in the unsettling and unfamiliar feeling of suddenly being left behind.

He unbuckles the straps from his gloves, places his cape across the back of the study chair, and lays down in the dusty bed where someone else was supposed to lay in. Thoughts of his own father creep in unnoticed, adding apprehension to Felix’s already seeded doubt. It would only be a matter of time until he’s forced to return home without making a scene. Until then, he would do what he could with the limited autonomy he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been way too long because we came back from a trip but I promise to try uploading weekly !


End file.
